


What We Never Had

by evilregal



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Swan Queen - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilregal/pseuds/evilregal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of Swan Queen tumblr prompt drabbles (may include other background pairings).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drunk Swan

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Can you write a drunk angry Emma. Established SQ?
> 
> Feel free to visit my tumblr (charmingregal) if you've got a request.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own OUaT. I do own any mistakes though.

She was drunk. Not tipsy, not slightly inebriated. No, Emma Swan was absolutely, completely wasted.

“A-another,” she slurred and winked at the barman, raising her empty tumbler.

“I’m cutting you off, Sheriff,” he laughed. “The Royals would never forgive me if I sent the Princess home with alcohol poisoning.” His tone was sarcastic, everyone knew Rob had never been one of the Charmings' partisans.

At the mention of her parents, her cheerful mood darkened, and Emma slammed her glass on the counter hard enough for it to crack. Sensing he had probably said something wrong, Rob placed a new glass in front of her and refilled it one last time, hoping to keep her calm.

“Do you want me to call someone to pick you up, sheriff?” he asked her innocently enough. He was not equipped to handle a drunken Saviour and her unpredictable magic, but he knew who could.

Taking the hint, Emma drained her glass and rose unsteadily on her feet.

“Fucker.” She sneered at him and with a flick of the wrist she magicked a half empty bottle of tequila in her hand. Without another word she disappeared in a cloud of white smoke.

/

Emma reappeared by the docks. She staggered her way down to the beach, taking a few generous swigs of the amber liquid.

Red and blue lights flashed behind her. The Saviour snorted when she saw her _dad_ in the patrol car pulling over. At least he had the brilliance of mind to leave his wife at home.

"Came to arrest me, deputy?" She yelled over her shoulder. She didn't care if she was making a scene. Emma Swan was passed giving a damn about her parents’ oh-so important goody-goody image.

"Emma, let's go home," Charming begged. "You're drunk, you need to sleep it off. Your mother and I are sorry for what we did, but you can’t keep acting like this…"

"Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do? You think I can just get over what you did? Just like that?" She cried, snapping her fingers for emphasis. "You corrupted my fucking best friend! My only friend. You took her away from her mother, blackened her soul and for what? To ensure that _I_ would be good? Well guess what..."

"Swan, what's going on?" Regina interrupted, plumes of purple smoke dissipating around her.

"Nothing's going on Regina, we're going home," Charming said tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Come on, kiddo.”

"I'm not going home with you," Emma spat, her face drawn into a scowl. She stumbled backward away from him, tequila sloshing in its bottle.

"No, you're not. You're coming with me, we're going _home_ ," the mayor said repeating Charming's last words, glaring at him. There was something oddly satisfying in being the one taking the Saviour home.

/

"I hate them," Emma slurred as Regina helped her out of her damned too-tight jeans.

"You're drunk, Dear. Hate is a big word. You're disappointed."

"Don't tell me how I feel, Gina!"

“Keep your voice down, Miss Swan. If you wake up Henry you are sleeping on the couch,” she warned.

Emma glared at her, but stayed quiet. She took the two white pills Regina handed to her and dry-swallowed them.

“I can tell you you are going to feel it in the morning, Dear,” Regina chuckled as she helped the Saviour lie down and pulled the blankets over her.

By the time Regina got ready for bed, Emma was already asleep and snoring softly. The mayor slipped in behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Goodnight, Miss Swan.”

 


	2. Phantom of the Opera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the-regina-mills asked: Regina and Emma go see Phantom of the Opera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own OUaT, only the mistakes and typos I made.

“Emma?” Regina called her wife, leaning against the doorframe of the ensuite bathroom.

“Mhm? What’s up babe?”

Regina couldn’t help but smile lovingly despite her hatred for the moniker. Emma was sitting on her side of the bed, Indian style, hunched slightly forward with a comic book in her hands. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun right on top of her head and black thick-rimmed glasses framed her face, making her eyes appear a bit bigger.

“Our anniversary’s coming up. I though, since I pretty much decided what we did for our Honeymoon, you’d want to choose this year?”

Emma glanced up from her book looking pleasantly surprised. The corners of her mouth turned up in a cute grin. She tilted her head and stared at her wife, adoration twinkling in the bright green of her irises. Regina Mills, control freak extraordinaire, was asking what she'd like to do.

Dropping her eyes back down on her comic, Emma replied, "I'd like to see a show on Broadway," without really thinking about it. She was not really into arts - singing and dancing - but it was something she's been dying to experience. All of her friends back in high school had assisted to at least one show and she'd always been envious.

"On Broadway..." Regina had expected her wife wanting to go to Disneyland or to go bungee jumping. "You want to go see a musical, Dear?" Disbelief coloured her voice.

"Yep," the Saviour nodded, offering the Queen a sweet smile.

 

/

 

A couple of weeks later, the tickets for _Phantom of the Opera_ were delivered to the manor, and Emma couldn't stop talking about it. They were going to drive up to New York City and spend the entire weekend sightseeing! Emma was excited to show her wife some of her favourite places. New York was where most of her few good childhood memories had happened.

Emma originally wanted to see _Wicked_ , but after giving it some thoughts, the Saviour figured Regina might not be too keen on it. Zelena - the Wicked Witch of the West - was still a sore spot for her wife.

Regina had been the one getting their tickets and she had made damn well sure they had the best seats in the house.

She had never been one for musicals, but with Henry's help she had downloaded the _Phantom of the Opera_ 's soundtrack on her phone, and to her surprise, the songs had grown on her.

 

/

 

Emma couldn't sit still. With wide eyes, she looked around her, trying to take everything in all at once.

Regina came back, carrying refreshments. She received a beaming smile when she handed the blonde a soft pretzel. The Queen smiled back, before kissing Emma chastely on the lips.

The lights went out.

"It's about to start!" Emma whispered enthusiastically.

"Happy anniversary, Miss Swan," Regina said, punctuating it with another kiss.

"Swan-Mills!" Emma corrected, "And shhh it's commencing!"

 

/

 

Forty-five minutes into the show, Emma had finished her pretzel and drained the last drops of her root beer. She glanced quickly at her wife and was stunned when she saw Regina singing along. She slumped in her seat and rested her head on her wife's shoulder. She had no idea what the fuss was all about. The Saviour was bored. She couldn't believe she had let Regina pay so much money for this.

"Hey, Gina?" Emma couldn't help but nudge her wife ten minutes later. She felt like her brain was liquefying by each ticking second.

Regina looked at her with a raised eyebrow questioningly.

"I think I saw a McDs right around the corner... I'm starving, I could go for fries and a strawberry milkshake..."

Regina frowned, confused. She opened her mouth only to close it at the look Emma gave her. Green emeralds shining wickedly. The blonde leaned in, her breath tickling the shell of Regina's ear, making the Queen shiver.

"I have a present for you too..." Emma whispered hotly, trailing a finger suggestively up her wife's inner thigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My inbox is almost empty. Feel free to send in some prompts.


	3. It's not over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: divorced sq, Emma still loves Regina but she screwed up and Regina loves her but is afraid to let her in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I can't actually write divorced divorced because it's just too sad and I don't think Emma would never ever do something that would compromise her relationship with Regina so I was fairly vague as to what she had done. Hope you enjoy it anyway! Thanks for the prompt!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own OUaT, only the mistakes and typos.

Emma watches her son munching on fries and slurping his milkshake. He offers her a couple of them, but she shakes her head. She hasn't had much of an appetite lately. She yearns for her wife's lasagna though...and their queen size bed.

"Hey, Ma?"

"What's up, kid?" She tries to sound upbeat, but she just feels like crying. She doesn't understand how she got there; back to living in her parents' loft.

"Do you still love mom?"

"What? Of course I do!" She sits straighter in the booth. "I will always love her."

"Are you guys going to get a divorce?" His bottom lip quivers and that's when she realizes how young he still looks. He might have grown, his voice might have changed, but he’s still her – their – little boy.

"I don't know, Henry. I...I haven't really talked to your mom yet."

"But it's been a week!" Her son cries. He sounds almost outraged, and it's exactly how Emma feels. Regina doesn't pick up her calls, doesn't answer her texts. She wants to blame her, but she can't. This is all on her, and she has to give her wife the time and space she seems to need.

"I know, kid. I'll figure it out...somehow." She doesn't remember the last time she felt this drained, this defeated.

"She misses you... I hear her cry at night," Henry admits, tears gathering in his eyes.

Emma isn't good at the comforting thing, but she put her hands on her son's and gently brushes her thumbs over his knuckles.

Green eyes lock into chocolate brown, mother and son are oblivious to the world around them. They don't hear the diner's bell chiming, announcing the arrival of the mayor.

"I'll fix this, Henry, or I'll die trying," she promises. "Your mom is worth the fight... She's worth everything."

Emma is startled when Regina stands by their table. Her cheeks colour a bright pink when she realizes Regina has probably heard her confession. She’s not embarrassed by her feelings, but she doesn’t know where they stand, and the Saviour doesn’t like feeling vulnerable.

Regina hasn't come to pick Henry at Granny's all week. Is her being there a good thing?

"Miss Swan." She's back to her former title, but Regina's tone has none of the bite it used to possess when they first met. She looks exhausted, and Emma's heart clenches. It’s her fault.

"Regina," she answers, nodding her head.

Henry gathers his things and gets up, thanking Emma for the snack.

"Anytime, kid. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Regina might not want to see her, but she will not stop seeing Henry.

The boy nods and slides out of the booth. He hugs Regina, and she hands him the Mercedes' keys. "I'll be right there," she tells him, softly ruffling his hair. He’s almost as tall as she is now.

Emma watches Henry walk out the door, her heart hammering in her chest. She feels her hands shaking and she unconsciously pulls them down on her lap. Regina sits in front of her, occupying Henry's previous seat.

"Hello, Dear."

"Hi." Emma's greeting is breathless.

"We need to talk."

"Yes, I know...I tried to..." Her voice cracks. She shakes her head, hoping to stem the tears threatening to fall and swallow the sobs in her throat.

When she looks up Emma sees a lone tear trailing down her wife's cheek.

"I miss you, Emma. I want you to come home. I overreacted and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. There’s lasagna in the oven...” Regina hopes it’ll be enough to entice her wife back home; she was never able to turn down her cooking before.

Emma stares at her wife, speechless. Her stomach growls at the mention of her wife’s lasagna. She didn’t think it would be that easy. It’s never that easy. And why is she saying it’s her fault? But Emma nods anyway, accepting Regina’s offer and follows her out the diner.

She points toward her bug and says, “Meet you home?”

“Yes, meet you at home.” Regina smiles warmly and Emma can’t help but mirror it.

They can - will fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm out of prompts, so if you want to read something, feel free to drop me a line :)


	4. I can't see

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hi can u do a SQ one where Emma cant find her glasses and cant see anything? - alice
> 
> Feel free to visit my tumblr (charmingregal) if you've got a request.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own OUaT. I do own any mistakes though.

Emma rolls over in bed with a groan, grabbing blindly for a pillow and hiding her face in it. Regina’s side of the bed is cold and Emma misses her warmth. She’s pretty sure that’s what woke her up; that and the sun shining brightly into their bedroom. Didn’t she pull the curtains closed before bed last night?

“Regina?” she calls out – whining really – thinking her wife is getting ready in their bathroom, but then she remembers it is Saturday, and they have no plans for the weekend. With a sleepy sigh, Emma flops back on her pillow and shuts her eyes.

Emma can’t drift off without Regina next to her. With a huff, she glances at the clock, but all she can see is a blurry blue spot where the numbers should be. Right, for once she actually took out her contacts the night before and threw them away. Emma reaches behind, over her head, and finds her phone between the mattress and the headboard. She presses the home button until she hears the _‘ding ding’_ letting her know Siri is ready.

“Wha- time is it?” Emma croaks, the covers muffling her question.

“I’m not sure I understand,” her phone answers.

“UGH! What. Time. Is. It?” Emma enunciates exaggeratedly.

“The time is 6:51AM.”

“What?” The question is obviously rhetorical, but Siri is a phone, and she – it – doesn’t know that.

“At the tone,” Siri replies, “the time will be 6:51AM…Beep.”

“Oh my god, I hate this phone!”

“I’m doing my best, Emma the Saviour,” Siri announces, and she almost sounds hurt.

Emma can’t believe Regina is already up – actually she can. What Emma can’t believe is that _she_ can’t get back to sleep. It’s freaking Saturday for crying out loud! This should be illegal. She growls into her pillow and finally sits up in bed. If she can’t sleep, she can at least get some breakfast. Regina will make her breakfast; her wife is an amazing cook. Emma smiles at the thought, her annoyance at being up so early already forgotten.

Feeling around her bedside table, Emma can’t find her glasses. She checks in the first drawer, they aren’t there either.

“Fuck!”

She gets up, squints at the floor and tries to find the dark blue shape that she knows is bound to be her hoodie.

Emma makes it out into the hallway no problem, but once she’s there, she freezes. She cannot see anything but a blur of colours. Emma Swan is basically blind without her glasses, and not seeing is pretty darn scary.

“Regina?” she whispers loudly, mindful that Henry is probably sleeping in his room right next door. “Regina?” she tries again.

When she doesn’t get an answer, Emma shuffles slowly forward, one hand on the wall and another stretched out in front of her.

“Dammit!” she growls, frustrated with her predicament. Emma curses the damn Queens of Darkness; the trio was wreaking havoc in town the day she had a scheduled appointment in Boston at a Lasik clinic, and she hasn’t taken the time to reschedule.

_‘I need to remember to ask Regina to call for me, _this is getting ridiculous,_ ’_ Emma thinks as she walks down the stairs.

She inches her way into the kitchen at a snail pace, following the smell of coffee.

“Gina?” Nothing, the house remains quiet. Where the hell is her wife?

With a shrug, Emma reaches for a mug in the cupboard and grips the handle of the coffee pot. She has a vague idea of where she needs to pour the hot liquid, if she squints hard enough she can _almost_ see the shape of the mug. Emma does it every morning, she’s pretty sure she could do it with her eyes closed. She got this! Until she spills it over the rim and onto her hand, and fuck it’s hot!

The mug and the pot shatter on the floor, and scalding coffee splashes at her feet.

“Fucking hell!” she cries out, shaking her hands.

“Emma, are you alright?” Regina rushes in from god knows where, worried as she takes in the scene.

The blonde whirls around and takes a step, nearly stepping on a shard of glass.

“Emma, don’t!” Regina cringes and waves her hand, cleaning the mess on the floor magically. “What happened?”

“I can’t see anything,” Emma says oddly calmly.

“What do you mean you can’t see?” Regina frowns in concern.

“I couldn’t find my glasses and I ran out of contact lenses,” Emma explains with an adorable pout.

“Ah, if only you remembered where you leave your things…or that you have magic,” Regina drawls, rolling her eyes (which Emma totally misses). With another flick of her wrist, she summons Emma’s black frame-glasses and slides them on her nose.

“There, can you see me?” Regina smirks.

Emma nods and smiles brightly at her.

“You are so much more beautiful than the blurry form that stood in front of me just a moment ago,” she teases, before kissing her wife sweetly on the lips, “Thank you.”


	5. Down to Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma & Regina have daughter who died when she was 16, their youngest daughter is turning 16 and struggling with body image and self harm. E & R don't want to lose another daughter. — sent by Anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the prompt!
> 
> I do not own OUaT. Sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> Trigger warnings: implied self-injury, vague mention of eating disorder

“Emma, Amelia, dinner is ready!” Regina calls her wife and youngest daughter from the dining room.

She sets the lasagne in the middle of the table, and with a wave of her hand, three plates, three glasses and cutlery appear, all in its right place. She doesn’t usually use magic to accomplish domestic tasks, but the past few months have been difficult, and Regina is emotionally exhausted. Lately, without her magic, she feels like she wouldn’t be achieving much, if anything.

Regina sighs sadly. _Three_. She used to set the table for five, then for four when Henry left for college. Henry. She smiles wistfully as she thinks of her son. Her brave little prince is all grown up now with a family of his own.

The Swan-Mills household was down to four, until tragedy struck. Just a few months after she turned 16, their oldest daughter, Laura died after a 10 year-long, well-fought battle with Leukemia. Their precious girl had given it her all, but she was tired, the chemo wasn’t doing anything, so her mothers told her it was alright to close her eyes and let go.

***

Amelia hears her mom call, but she doesn’t move. She has no intention of going down to eat. She’s lying on her floor, right next to her bed and she stares at the ceiling. She inhales deeply and tightens her fists.

Her favourite dish, yet she’s terrified of it. Her stomach growls loudly and she winces. She will not be weak, she won’t cave in. She _cannot_. She has to be perfect now, for her moms, whatever it means. What is perfection? It’s confusing. Dr. Hopper says it doesn’t exist, but she knows he’s wrong. Laura was perfect. She was smart, funny, brave, strong and beautiful. Even in sickness, she still looked like a true princess.

Why can’t she be more like Laura? Why does she feel like she has to be more like Laura? Amelia just wants to be herself. Tears slowly trickle down her cheeks. Why isn’t she enough?

***

“Emma, Amelia?” Regina calls again.

“We’re coming, babe!” Emma yells from upstairs.

Fresh out of the shower, Emma heads down the hall and knocks on her daughter’s door before pushing it open. She finds her baby girl on the floor, her golden blonde hair sprawled beneath her forming a halo. She stands there silently for a moment and watches her daughter. She’s almost 16 now, Amelia is not a little girl anymore, but she’ll always be their baby.

“Hey Bug, you coming? Dinner is ready,” she asks softly so she won’t startle her daughter. Amelia’s magic has been unpredictable lately, and Emma doesn’t want to deal with _another_ house fire.

“No. I’m not hungry.” Amelia answers with detached finality, and it makes the Saviour uneasy.

Frowning, Emma walks into the teenager’s room, sits on the edge of the mattress and gazes down at her daughter. Amelia looks so much like her sister. When they were little, before Laura’s illness, people would mistake them for twins, and the girls loved it.

Emma notices the tears, and her eyes are drawn to Amelia’s arms where angry self-inflicted scars criss-cross her milky skin. She takes a deep, calming breath when she spots fresh ones. Dr. Hopper says they shouldn’t make a big deal out of them, it wouldn’t solve anything. But to her and Regina, it _is_ a big deal. Their child is suffering and they don’t know how to help.

She shivers inwardly, feeling helpless. She is supposed to be the Saviour, yet she is powerless in the face of her daughter’s inner turmoil. Emma can still hear her wife’s deafening scream when she found her daughter barely conscious with bloodied wrists the morning after Laura’s funeral.

_“I can’t lose another child,” Regina sobbed as they waited outside Amelia’s hospital room. “I won’t survive it.”_

_“You won’t lose her,” Emma promised, wrapping her arms around her wife’s shaking body. She kissed her forehead and pulled Regina even close. “We’ll figure it out.”_

“Why not, Bug? What’s going on?” Emma slips off the bed and sits on the floor next to Amelia.

Amelia shrugs. “I don’t think I can,” she confesses, refusing to look at her mom. She doesn’t know how to express what she’s feeling, and it frustrates her.

A fresh new wave of tears erupts from behind closed lids, and her shoulders shake as Amelia cries silently. Emma’s heart crumples in her chest, leaving her breathless. She never wanted her children to feel this way.

“Oh Bug, come here,” Emma whispers, pulling her daughter on her lap. “It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you. Let it out.” She rocks Amelia back and forth, rubbing gentle circles on her back. Amelia clings onto her mom’s shirt, sobs wracking her small body.

“I… I don-don’t kn-know what’s hap-happening to me,” Amelia cries. Her chest heaves as she begins to panic, and Emma can feel the room tremble around them. The lights flicker and mirrors crack.

“You need to calm down, Bug,” Emma tries to sooth, “you’re okay.” She focuses her magic to counteract Amelia’s, and as she does, she detects Regina’s too. Emma looks up. Sure enough, her wife is there. Regina is always there for them.

Regina’s magic is like a warm blanket, and she cloaks her daughter with it, calming her almost instantly. Emma can feel her child relax in her arms and her breathing begins to slow down. Regina kneels next to the two blondes and gently removes Amelia’s glasses, wiping her tears with the pad of her thumb.

“Hello, Princess,” Regina says, offering a comforting smile. “Having a bad day? That’s okay, mommy’s here. We’re both here,” she reassures her. Regina strokes her daughter’s cheek with a gentle touch.

“Mom-mommy,” Amelia hiccups. Her lashes flutter, she’s so tired. She tries to fight it, but it’s no use, her mom’s magic is so calming, it’s making her drowsy.

“Why don’t you just rest for a little while, hm?” Regina suggests, combing her fingers through Amelia’s blonde curls.

She nods and transports them in a cloud of light orange smoke to Emma and Regina’s bed. Before the fumes are completely dissipated, Amelia is fast asleep in her mothers’ embrace.

Emma finds her wife’s hand, and their fingers interlace. Regina leans over their daughter and kisses Emma. The Saviour nestles her head into the Queen’s shoulder and she closes her eyes. They will be okay.

***

“Mommy,” Amelia murmurs, twirling a lock of Regina’s hair around her finger, “mom?”

Regina stirs awake and blinks slowly. “Hey, how are you feeling?” she whispers hoarsely.

“Better, I’m hungry,” Amelia admits, somewhat sheepish.

“Me too, Bug, me too,” Emma mumbles, her eyes still closed.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! xx
> 
> Tumblr: charmingregal


End file.
